


He Knows Her

by lizardcookie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Blood, F/M, engaged jily, gotta love loving characters who are DEAD haha lets make it even worse, idk stab wounds are a thing in this too, im sorry i write a lot jily in pain im sorry to my two kids, post hogwarts order members jily, sort of, this is the first of a connected series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 15:45:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7514059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizardcookie/pseuds/lizardcookie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were foolish to think no one would notice that a Potter was dating a witch with no known connections in their world. She was foolish to think that ending their engagement would save him, and he was foolish to think that his Pureblood meant nothing, despite how much he wanted it to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There’s the copy of _The Daily Prophet_ sitting on the counter and her ring is there too, glittering and sparkling like nothing is wrong but _everything_ is wrong because it’s not on her finger because she took it off because she’s trying to give it back. It’s sitting there staring at him and he’s trying to figure out how the hell the world has come crashing down on him in the matter of minutes.

“Lily,” he tells her and there is warning in his voice but she isn’t looking at him. “Lily, don’t do this. You know _The Prophet_ is wrong. And you know if they’re right, then it’s too late.”

He knows her and he knows that she must know that nothing will save them. He’s the Blood Traitor and she’s the Mudblood who seduced him from the path of respectability. He’s been told to come to his senses and stop the disease before it takes hold and she’s the sickness that needs to be eradicated. That is what _The Prophet_ said, and that is what Bellatrix Lestrange screamed, and that is what her old Ravenclaw friend told them in Diagon Alley two days ago.

“It’s got nothing to do with The Prophet,” she tells him, but he knows she’s lying because last week they were laughing and seeing the light and talking about dress robes for the ceremony. “I don’t want to marry you,” is what she says next and now he can only see darkness and it’s heavy and it’s suffocating him but he’s not giving up, he’s not leaving, he’s not letting her make this mistake.

“It’s not going to work,” he tells her and he takes a step closer to her and she flinches her hand out of his reach because even if she’s not looking at him, she can feel his movement because she knows him. “It’s not going to work,” he repeats, “because I’m not going to revoke your name or say you’ve been sneaking me Amortentia. It’s not going to work because I’m not going to let it work,” he says and he’s getting angry because doesn’t she see that this is not going to work?

“Don't you think I've thought of that? I’m going to say all those things,” she whispers, “I’m going to tell them. I’m going to tell them that you rejected me and I became angry and I drugged you. It’s going to work.”

“And me, Lily, what are you going to tell _me_?”

“That I don’t want to marry you,” is what she repeats, but he knows her and she is wrong but she keeps talking. “I’m going to tell you that you need to live so you need to leave. I’m going to– I’m telling you that I don’t love you and I never have.”

“That’s a lie,” he says harshly, nothing more than a hoarse whisper because the darkness is growing and he’s drowning in it, drowning, drowning, drowning and she’s not reaching out to pull him back up from this pit.

He thinks he hears her break. He thinks he hears a sob come from her chest and he grabs her hands for real this time, his grip tight around her limp fingers, but her eyes are dry and unfocused, not looking at him despite the fact that he’s staring down into her soul. “Lily, don’t do this. Lily, LILY-”

And now he’s repeating her name, his hands cupped around her cheeks like they have so often been, but it’s different and it’s horrible and it’s killing him. His eyes are pleading with her blank stare and he’s tucking away the usual stray hair behind her ear and he’s damn near yelling her name but she doesn’t seem to care that he knows her, he knows this isn’t right and he knows that she knows it’s wrong.

So he kisses her, just a brush of lips meeting and he feels her breath hitch for just a moment and he tries again, because this isn’t right and this isn’t Lily because Lily isn’t a coward. Lily is smart enough to know that giving him back the ring isn’t enough to save him and she is smart enough to know that he doesn’t want to be saved if it means not being with her. Maybe if he kisses her she will remember the late night patrols and the feel of safety and the post-battle adrenaline, but she does nothing. She does nothing and he may as well be nothing.

He pulls his lips away.

There are tears in her eyes but she isn’t looking at him and that is the most selfish thing she has ever done, because she doesn’t see his heartbreak or anger or pain. She leaves him to deal with it alone, he knows that she knows that he will hate her for it. He will resent her for this selfish act and that was her plan from the start. So he stands there, falling apart alone and staring at her, hurt and confused because Lily Evans is not selfish. She is kind. Above all else she is kind, and perhaps she thinks this is the kindest way to kill him. Perhaps she thinks this is a more gentle death than one he’s sure to meet soon at the end of a wand, be it the quick thud of green or the slow feel of silver knives or any mix between the two. Perhaps she really thinks this is the kindest thing she could do.

“Dammit, Lily, please don’t do this,” and he hears it, the desperation and the panic and the anger, and he knows she hears it too because she closes her eyes and clenches her fist and then she does it. She turns from him, her shoulders rotating as if suspended in time and he’s the fool left watching the love of his life push him away from everything he’s known of late. She’s blocked him from her comfort and that’s all he’s had since they left school. There is darkness all around now because they are not laughing together and he can’t see the light without her guiding him towards the sunshine and the spring. This is war and he’s not dead yet but he will be soon because that’s what happens to soldiers and to lovers. He will keep fighting and he will be alive until he’s not, but he won’t be living and laughing because that was her. That was Lily who did that, and that was he, James, who could do that for her.

And so he leaves.

He leaves because he knows her, and he knows that she knows that this is wrong. But he knows that she is kind and that she is an optimist and an idealist who believes that good intentions lead to good outcomes. He knows that she thinks she can save everyone, that she would lose herself to save everyone, and he knows she wants to save him. Lily Evans is not often wrong but she’s wrong now and it’s going to kill them both before they lose their lives to the war, alone, separately, too stubborn to stop fighting.

He leaves her and he leaves the ring, glittering and sparkling on the counter. Now it can mock her as it mocked him earlier. He’s leaving the ring and he’s leaving her safety and he’s going find the nearest Death Eater to provoke and when that’s said and done, he’ll find Sirius and they’ll smoke and drink and maybe talk. He doesn’t turn to look back at her because that would be too final. He doesn’t close the door behind him because that would be too final. He just leaves because he knows her and she knows that. She knows that he will be reckless and she knows that it has to be her that fixes this because it is she who ripped it apart so neatly. She will be stubborn but she will realize that she can’t save everyone and the only way to save herself is to save him.

She knows that, in the end. But for now she needs time to stare out into the darkness, time to accept her young life and her young love and her young death. It will be she who finds him again, who pulls him from the pit that she threw him down. 

She knows him, and she knows that she's broken him. But sometimes it is not enough to be young and in love. Sometimes that is the worst thing to be, when fighting a war that'll tear down anything that resembles goodness. She knows this, and she knows she can't save him, but she'll be damned if she doesn't try.

The ring sparkles on the counter, mocking her in all its glory as he knew it would, and the cold metal band burns her fingers when she picks it up to put it away, deep inside a forgotten cabinet drawer. But that would be too easy. 

Instead, she puts it back on. Its mocking grows louder, and Lily can't find it in herself to think she didn't deserve it. 


	2. She Knows She's Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can end this, Evans,” Sirius said fiercely. “You know exactly what needs to be done.”
> 
> “I couldn't live with myself if he died and it was my fault,” she muttered.
> 
> "Some things are worth dying for. Some people, too. You know that."

Beautiful though that boy may be, she hated difficult customers. Cute, rude, and moody customers. She stalked back to his booth, menu in hand and fresh determination in her manner.

"You sure I can't get you anything? Tea? Coffee?"

He didn't respond, but continued to stare ahead. She followed his gaze and saw that it rested on her co-worker, who had her back turned while clearing the back booth. The girl slammed a menu down in front the customer with an order for him to order, marching promptly over to the other waitress stuck on the night shift with her. 

"There's a bloke here," she muttered to the red head, "real cute mind ya, but he keeps staring at you and it doesn't seem that friendly. Want me to grab the broom and scare ‘im off?"

The other waitress, rather shorter than the first, glanced over towards the table that her coworker indicated. She gave a heavy sigh that resounded far deeper than it should have in the bones of an eighteen year old. 

"Thanks," she said with stony resolution, "but it's okay. I know him."

The girl's eyes widened. “That’s not your man, is he? Your fiance?”

Lily Evans did her best to hide her grimace. "It's complicated. Cover for me?"

The girl nodded, still trying to read any relationship between Lily and the dark haired man, but dutifully walked back into the kitchen to pick up the few orders they had. Lily adjusted her apron, looking for something to do instead of talk to the visitor, before checking herself over in the mirror at the counter to buy more time. What must have been her reflection stared back at Lily-- a girl who could be pretty if her hair was brushed or her shoulders weren't sagging or if she caught up on the weeks' worth of sleep she needed. Then again, maybe it was just the ridiculous short dress, white apron, and little hat she had to wear as part of her cafe uniform that made the reflection unfamiliar.

Lily hated working at the cafe, She hated this part of town and she hated having to store her wand in a holster up her thigh rather than in a robe. She couldn't do much about her situation, either. Wasn't it she who had insisted on maintaining her own job and receiving some form of independent income? Wasn't it she who had been turned down by every Ministry research position she applied to? Wasn't it she who believed that a muggle diner would be a great cover? How he had argued with her over this, saying he had enough for them both and that it wasn't safe for her to try to exist in both worlds. How little that argument meant now. 

And she should be happy to see that head of black hair sitting across the diner, but she's not. He doesn’t even look up when she slides into the booth across from him, her arms crossed protectively across her chest. He waited for her to talk, because it was she who owed him explanations and apologies. They sat in uncomfortable silence for a minute, so unlike how the pair of them usually act, until she finally spoke. 

"How is he?" 

Sirius Black took his time before he answered, eyeing her darkly from across the table. "I don't think you really have a right to ask that, do you?"

She ignored the blow she felt in her stomach because Sirius was right, but she has no other way to find out how James Potter was holding up. 

Part of breaking off an engagement means accepting this sort of thing. Lily Evans was still working on that.

"Please?" She begged, and she hoped he would hear the desperation in her voice and realize that she's not okay, either. It didn't work.

"You really fucked things up, Evans," he told her, shaking his head back and forth in disapproval. "You really fucked him up."

“I did what I had to do,” she defended, but admittedly her resolve on that stance had faded significantly over the last two weeks. She was grateful she had enough shame to keep the ring on a chain around her neck, hidden down her dress, rather than on her finger, as she was sure Sirius would have mocked her endlessly for it. She knew couldn’t let Sirius see her doubt, though, and wasn’t going to fuel any more of his anger towards her by letting him see that she regretted her decision to leave James. She also wasn’t going to give Sirius anything hopeful to report back to him. “He’s safer without me. He can live without me there to put him in danger.”

“Is  _ that  _ what you think? Is that the sound logic the brilliant mind of Lily Evans came up with?" The scorn in his tone was enough to make her flinch, but he wasn't through with her yet. He shook his head again, long hair flopping delicately about. “Merlin, I thought you knew him. Maybe it’s better that you won’t get married.”

“You read what  _ The Prophet  _ said would happen,” she snapped at him. She didn’t want to hear any of this from Sirius and she didn’t want her choices questioned, especially when she already questioned herself. But what she really did not want to hear was Sirius implying that she did not know James and that they shouldn’t be married, because that was a lie if she’d ever heard one. So she pressed the issue again, willing him to understand that she wasn’t a bad person and that this was the best way to go about such things. “James is always going to find himself in trouble, but his death will  _ not _ be because of me. I gave him an out, Sirius! I gave him a chance to live, for which you of all people should be grateful for.”

“Yeah, well some great life you left him,” he scathed, sarcasm and disdain dripping from his words. “The bastard won’t even  talk  to me, or Moony or Wormtail, or his even parents. He sits and waits for the next tip of Death Eater activity from Alice and he’s gone. That’s not anyway to live, Evans, and that’s on you." 

"I didn't have a choice," Lily reminded him, but she wasn't sure how much she believed that herself. 

"Bullshit," Sirius spat. "You always have a choice. There's always a choice and you picked the wrong one. You're a lot of things, Lily, but coward isn't one of them."

"This is cowardice?" She asked in turn, seething. "Ending things with James is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Don't call me a coward for trying to give your best mate a chance to survive."

"Things got messy and you ran," he countered. "This isn't Hogwarts where it's Slytherins and the off Hufflepuff giving you shit for dating James. Did you think we could leave and no one would notice that a you were with a Pureblood, even if he's just another oddball Potter?"  

She stayed silent and Sirius pressed on.

"James knew exactly what was going to happen when he proposed. Hell, he knew exactly what was going to happen the fucking moment you looked at him with anything more than friendly intent."

Still she didn't respond. Instead, she swiped her palms across her eyes, attempting to hide the tears that threatened to spill over. 

"I thought you were ready for this. I thought you knew what you were getting into."

Silence.

“I thought you were the one person who could be good enough for James. Looks like I was wrong.” 

“ _Don’t_.” Lily finally had enough. “Don’t talk to me like this is nothing to me. Don’t act like I haven’t been dreading this for months and don’t pretend that this is anything less than a living hell for me,” she wiped her eyes again in frustration, having not managed to stop her tears but deciding that she didn’t care. 

“You can end this, Evans,” Sirius said fiercely. “You know exactly what needs to be done.”

“I couldn't live with myself if he died and it was my fault,” she muttered. 

"Some things are worth dying for. Some people, too. You know that."

Another long pause. 

“He must hate me." 

Sirius gave another great shake of his head. 

“Maybe it would be easier if he did, but he doesn't. He's pulling his hair out with worry over you even now," he remarked with some malice. Despite the hostile tone, Sirius reached out to clasp his hand over hers, the affectionate gesture an almost humorous contrast to his words. "I don't think James could hate you if he tried. Me though? Still considering it."

"Fair enough," she sighed. "I'm considering it myself." 

It was that admittance that finally let Sirius drop the callousness and the air shifted between them. Any fear he had that Lily was going to be stubborn about this, that she wasn't going to admit that she was wrong, vanished. They were now more comfortable, more relaxed with Lily staring sullenly at the table and his gaze giving off more pity than hostility. Self-loathing was supposed to be  _ his _ thing, not Lily's. 

Sirius looked towards the large glass window and the poorly lit street outside. It was exposed here, the cafe. Any passerby can see who was working and how many witnesses would be present if something were to happen. He, like James, never liked that she was working here and he certainly didn’t like the idea of her working here tonight.

There’d been an uptick in muttering, Wormtail told him. Blood purists weren’t happy that nothing had happened to the Evans girl for stepping outside her place, and many didn’t believe that James, despite his pureblood, deserved any leniency for associating with a Muggleborn as he did. Sirius didn't tell Lily this, though, because he could see the bags under her eyes and the hollow sound of her voice. She was managing just as poorly as James. And sometimes mutterings were just that-- talk. There was no need to put more stress on Lily just as there was no need to put more stress on James.

Sirius told Peter not to let James know about the rumors of retribution. He had never kept secrets from James before, and here he was, sitting with Lily and keeping secrets from her too.

He summoned the coffee pot off a nearby cart and poured Lily a cup, topping it with a bit of Firewhiskey from the flask he always seems to have on him now. She took it without thanks while Sirius filled his own cup, forgetting the coffee and opting for the rest of the whiskey instead. 

"Cheers," she said dryly while he downed his cup. She sipped on her coffee, the hot sting of Firewhiskey mixing with the caffeine as it started to run through her system. “Did... does James know you’re here?”

“Merlin, no,” Sirius replied with some exasperation. “No, I'm here to make sure you aren't stupid enough to let this go on any longer. One week, fine, but two? You're really testing my patience, Evans."

She swirled her cup in thought, but didn't acknowledge his remark. He didn't need her to, really. Acknowledging how much she missed James, how she needed him now more than ever, how much she regretted ever entertaining the idea that she would be able keep fighting without him, was too much to process. From both an emotional and a practical view, James had never failed to be there for her. In the last year, they had talked about what they were going to do after the war, eyes bright and voices cheerful with dreams as big as constellations. And only last month did James take the blow of a horrible curse aimed for her, all the while promising her that he’d been in more pain the time he and Sirius decided to try a hair-switching serum in Third Year. She wondered if he was still limping from the pain, and if the long gash on his back had scarred over any more. Lily shook her head, urging her thoughts to scatter and leave her alone. Almost as if this were the cue he was looking for, Sirius sat up from his slumped position and squared his shoulders, ready to leave. 

"This place is depressing and you look ridiculous," he told her gruffly. "Let's get out of here."

"Can't," she shrugged. "I've got an all night shift." 

He rolled his eyes in derision. "Lily, come on. It's one shift at a shitty dive. It’ll be fine."

"I like the work," she admitted, pressing her thumbs together anxiously. "It keeps me grounded."

Sirius gave her a hard look before responding. 

"Suit yourself," he replied dismissively as he slid out the booth gracefully, adjusting his leather jacket in the reflection of the large window. Nothing looked out of place in the dark outside. Lily watched him in misery, wondering when she would see him again.

"Aren't you going to pay for the coffee?" She asked.

"No need," Sirius replied. "I've got connections with the staff."

"You should at least tip, you know."

"Fine. Here's your tip-- if you see a big, black stray dog around here, let him walk you home. He probably knows the way."

She smiled genuinely for the first time in two weeks.

"Thanks, Padfoot." 

He started for the door but stopped when Lily spoke again.

"Wait," she grabbed his arm, holding him there. His eyebrows rose in question at her. "Send everyone my love. You know, Remus and Peter... anyone else who might need it." 

Sirius didn't respond for a moment, appraising her request, then gave a curt nod. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as per usual and he was gone.

* * *

James--  to Sirius' surprise-- wasn't sitting on the couch but had moved five feet over to the chair. He didn't look up when Sirius opened the door to the flat, striding in and heading straight for the kitchen.

"Saw your fiancé," Sirius announced, throwing a bottle of Butterbeer at James and plopping down on the couch with a thud and a  _ pop _ as he opened his own bottle. James stared dully back at him. 

"What?"

"Short, freckled young woman. Dark red hair. Sometimes goes by the name of Lily." 

"She's not my fiancé," James muttered darkly, then paused before he asked, "...how is she?"

Sirius smiled. "Doing just as splendidly as you are, mate." 

 

* * *

 

Really, she wasn't supposed to be here. 

Sirius left only a few hours ago and Lily hadn’t been able to focus on anything since he walked out the door. She let two orders of pancakes grow cold and spilled coffee onto a truck driver’s lap by accident, much to the exasperation of her co-worker. 

"You should go home," the other waitress told Lily. "The three o’clock crowd is never big, I can do it myself."

Lily rubbed her eyes, exhausted. 

"Thank you," she smiled. But Lily wasn't going home, not exactly. 

She could Apparate to his place in a heartbeat. He’d open the door and she’d cry, just a little bit, and she’ll tell him how sorry she is and how much she missed him and that she was just scared but she was wrong. She was wrong and she’s sorry but more importantly she’s in love with him and she doesn’t want to be anyone but Lily Potter. 

He’ll be angry for only a moment. He won’t yell at her, but enduring his disappointment has never been a strength of her’s. He’ll take her back because he knows that she knows that she was wrong, but more importantly he’s still in love with her, too. 

Drained and exhuasted, Lily couldn’t hold back her smile as she gathered her belongings from beneath the counter and as she left out the back into the alleyway. She was going home. She was going to see James and everything was going to be okay.

She was heading to where she was supposed to be.

That is, of course, before she walks straight into Bellatrix Lestrange’s sharp blade and Dolohov’s quick fist.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the ending has gone through a lot of re-working and im still considering whether or not that last bit needs to be there in order for the next part to make sense, but oh well. it's there. lemme know whatcha think ! 
> 
> also im really really fond of the idea of lily as a waitress and im not sure why. i see lily as someone who has worked at things like cafes and groceries in order to make money, because i also see lily as someone pretty lower class who always had to provide for herself.
> 
> also!!! sirius and lily friendship means the world to me. two kids forgotten by their families who both love james more than anyone else in their world.


	3. She Wasn't Supposed to Be Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She’s whispering now, a calm, quiet sound that pierces through him like a harpies’ screech. "They're going to kill me.”

The worst part is that she wasn't even supposed to be there at all. Sirius told him that she was working. She was supposed to be busy at the cafe. She was supposed to be there and she sure as hell wasn't supposed to be _here_ , curled up on the floor and bleeding from her abdomen.

"No, no, no," is the only thing that's been able to come of out his mouth because his brain is numb and broken because there is no way that Lily Evans should be bleeding on the ground in a holding cell across from him.

She was sobbing but her cries were getting weaker. _She_ was getting weaker.

His hands grip the bars to his own holding cell, the cold iron meeting his ice cold flesh. He grips the bars so tightly he can feel his palms bruise but that pain is nothing, _nothing_ compared to the agony that is tearing through his whole body, crashing through his veins and flooding his brain. She's sobbing and she's bleeding and he is too but at least he can stand. She's curled up in a ball in the corner and she's crying because, he knows, she is dying.

She was still wearing her apron. That's what he was going to see, that's the last thing he'd see of her. Lily Evans-- almost Potter-- across a dungeon from him wearing a white apron stained with the deep sticky red of death. Not Ministry robes or dress robes, but a Muggle apron.   
  
"It's all my fault," is what he hears her say. Funny, he was just thinking the same thing. How did he not see her in the chaos of the last few hours during the raid? How did he not look for her in battle as he always did? But she wasn’t supposed to be on Order duty, and James had arrived to the fight after it had already begun. He didn't think to look before he had been knocked cold by a surprise blow to his head.

His fault. His fault. His fault.   
  
Broken up for two weeks and here they were, together again and good as dead.   
  
"I ruined it," she mumbles and he's suppressing panic. "I ruined it. You gave me everything and I sent you away. I ruined it."

"Love, please," the tears are in his voice now, it's unsteady and shaky and he hates it. He hates that he is not unfeeling, that he cannot remain calm for her. But he's just a kid, he's only eighteen and oh God does he hope they make it to nineteen. "Don't talk. Save your strength. I’m going to get you out of here, you know that, right?"

"I can't see," she sobbed, "I can't see anything. I don't know what happened but I can't see."  
  
"It's dark, Lily, that's okay, there's not much--" But she cut him off.   
  
" _He_ did it," she moaned and something scraped the ground, a sound that was metal screaming against the stone floor. James realizes with some horror that she's shackled in her cell and she's crying again, "He's here, he killed Benjy and he did something to me and I CAN’T SEE."

Is the screaming that he hears real, or is it all in his head? Does that matter? Voldemort is here and so is Lily and so is he. The blood that streamed down from the gash on his forehead has finally dried and he has no idea how long they've been here from the moment he came to and heard her crying across the way. All he knows is that they won't last much more of it. At least, Lily won't, and if Lily doesn't make it then he doesn't really either.

"It's gonna to be alright," he hears himself lie. "It's alright, Lily, we're gonna be fine, we're gonna be okay.”

She's moaning in pain and crying, still, because she's still lying in that puddle of blood and he can see that there are chains looping down from the wall to her wrists and to her ankles. Lily is shackled in there and he doesn't have the time or energy to think about why he is standing free except for the bars around him that stop him from being able to reach her.

“It’s okay,” he says again, “Lily, we’re going to be okay. We’re having tea with my parents this week, remember? I’m not supposed to tell you, but Dad’s giving you a golden cauldron-- I told him it was impractical but he wouldn't hear me.” He’s rambling but she stops crying, he can hear her take shattering and strained breaths but she’s not crying anymore. “Mum has some Goblin-made jewelry she thinks will be your taste, and she may be right, you know I’m shit at picking jewelry--”

He’s surprised that Lily cuts him off, but he’s even more surprised at how even her voice is now despite the fact that she’s half dead and exhausted and he can't control the sheer panic in his own voice. But Lily speaks and her composure terrifies him.

"I... I wanted to die as Lily Potter, you know,” she says with a sort of hollowness. “And now it's too late."  
  
"No," he told her, "you listen to me, Lily, you are not- going- to die," with each word James punches the bars, sending vibrations through the dungeon. If they’ve been in a worse situation, James can't remember it. Can't remember much of anything right now, can’t think of much anything else besides the fact that she wasn't even supposed to be here, she’s supposed to be at the diner, she’s supposed to be okay.

  
She’s whispering now, a calm, quiet sound that pierces through him like a harpies’ screech. "They're going to kill me.”

“Impossible,” he counters, and he imagines that there is some bravado in there, imagines that he is composed for her and that he can get them out of here. He imagines that fear isn’t coursing through his veins like molten lava, burning him out and killing him from the inside. “Someone besting Lily Evans? Laughable. You’re going to be alright, remember? ”

Above, there is a scream. A long, drawn out scream followed by a sharp bang. Then there is silence.

James finds it harder to breathe, panic rising and time running out.

"Okay," Lily agrees. She indulges him, she’s letting him believe that everything will be okay. Her voice is raspy and choked but she’s talking back at him. "Okay, James, just talk to me. Talk to me, what's happening? Can you see?"

"I'm not hurt," he says, "and it's dark but you're across from me. Maybe there's something here, something on the ground--"  
  
"You can move? You aren't chained?"

He hesitates a beat too long and she has her answer. Lily whimpers quietly for a second, and James starts again. “It’s only us down here, nobody else. Sirius will be here soon, or Remus, or Alice, or Dumbledore or the Prewitt’s--”

“I’m sorry,” Lily sobs out, and James doesn’t correct her because he’s sorry too. For what, he doesn’t really know, but he knows he’s sorry. Sorry he left that night and didn’t keep fighting, sorry they’d joined the Order, sorry he ever met her if it meant she wouldn’t be lying on the ground across from her and bleeding to death.

Another noise from above, and this sound exponentially worse than the scream of death they heard earlier. It’s a strange noise, one James has never heard before and one he can only hope beyond hope he will never hear again. He stands, silent and frozen, while the sound resonates in the room until he realizes what it must be…. _laughter_. The most perverted, gruesome, high-pitched laughter he’d ever heard.

The silence that follows is loud and ringing, save for the soft quiet sobs that escape from his own treacherous lips.

“James, love, I need you to listen to me,” Lily says and her voice is hoarse. Her light, flowery voice is raspy and tired and for some twisted reason he remembers with vivid sight and sound the days following the Quidditch final when she had screamed herself hoarse, and how she ran up to him as soon as he dismounted his broom, how she threw her arms round his shoulders and the way she croaked _I love you_ in his ears with that same absurd, ridiculous voice she’s using to calm him down with now. It only makes him cry more. 

He hears her take a shuttering breath. "They're going to kill me," she tells him again. "But they're going to let you go."

James froze, momentarily surprised into forgetting to panic. Because she had to be wrong. Lily was never wrong but there's a first time for everything and right now she was wrong, because there would be no way that they would torture and kill her while leaving him to go completely free... No...  
  
But there was. They would torture and kill a Muggleborn while allowing a Pureblood a second chance.   
  
And suddenly, James was screaming.

"I'm up! Come down here and fight me, I'm awake! I'm up and ready, let me-"  
  
"It's okay," Lily interrupted, and she wasn't crying anymore, but James was sobbing in earnest, "James, it's okay. They're going to let you go. They're not going kill you."   
  
"No!" He was screaming again, "no, let her go!"   
  
"James-"   
  
"Do you hear me? Let her go! Kill me! Take me instead!"   
  
"James, listen to me," she was speaking softly and God, how wasn't she crying? "Please, love, go with them. It's okay, James," and finally, fucking finally she was crying again and James was rocking back and forth, hands pulling out clumps of his hair in order to stop screaming as she told him, "I love you. I want you to go."   
  
"No," he told her, but some of the fight was gone, and he was leaning against the bars with his head in his hands. "This isn't happening. This isn't happening..."   
  
"Am I- am I facing you? Where are you?" Moving for the first time since he came to, Lily stretched out her hands in front of her, groping the air. “James?”

“More-more to the left,” he manages to say, and Lily blindly shifts her arms and legs as much as she can handle. He can see the rips in her dress, the burn marks on her sleeves and more horrifying, the small knife marks that gash her upper legs and abdominal region, where her apron is stained almost comically like the time she tipped a whole bottle of red wine on herself. But it's not wine and they aren't at home laughing and smiling, she’s covered in what will be her own death. Something in his mind remembers Bellatrix’s affinity for small blades and testing Muggleborn blood for dirt. Lily opens her eyes with what he can see is great effort, and he’s met with the blank dull emerald gaze of someone whose eyes are supposed to contain other worlds. Whatever Voldemort did to her vision, it has seeped into her very life source.

“That’s it,” James comforts her. Encourages her. The way one does a child, or elderly parent, or sick dog on its way to-- No. Lily was Lily, not something to be pitied. She was going to be fine. “I’m right here, Lily, I’m not going to leave you.”

It’s arguably the only true thing he has told her in the last hour. He wasn't leaving her, _she_ was leaving _him,_ the most cruel sort of parallel he’s had the misfortune to experience.

“Talk to me,” she demands again, quiet like before.

“About what?”

“Anything. Nothing. Everything there is.”

Of course, he obliges. James Potter has always tried to oblige Lily Evans. “Puddlemere United is trading their second Chaser. I knew he wouldn't last long, you can see it in his when he plays, he’s got no drive. Remember watching the Puddlemere game after graduation? You know what I’m talking about.”

“That’s nice,” she murmurs nonsensically.

“Open your eyes, love, look at me-- that’s good, keep like that. Did you know that Remus wants to apply at Hogwarts? Me ‘n Padfoot were thinking about getting him something nice for his interview, like a new cloak or a- a briefcase or something, do professors even use those things?”

She made another muffled noise of agreement.

The words _I love you_ die in his throat, three words that they’d say so casually to each other now having the significance of the entire world in their meaning. Three words filled with a finality that he refused to give life to, as if anything had the power to change what was happening before him. Worse yet, the fact that he can't bring himself to say them will haunt him until the end. 

“I know I said we couldn't elope, I’m okay with that now. Mum and Dad don't need worry about preparing for a ceremony at their ages. We can elope, just like you wanted.”

That should have gotten a response out of her. Something, at least.

“Lily? Lily, talk to me. A-about anything or nothing or everything, just talk to me.”

She didn't answer. She didn't even stir.

"Lily," James yelled, "Lily, answer me. Wake up, Lily, _wake up!"_

He is aware of many things and nothing, all at once. He is aware of the sound of his own bellows, acutely and horribly aware of her own silence, and slowly registering that the sounds through the cellar door are becoming louder and closer and all the more chaotic.

The cellar door slams open, and he doesn’t know whether it’s friend or foe, life or death, all he knows is that Lily won’t answer him and he’s afraid their fate has already been decided.

The light from the doorway is blinding as sounds of a fight stream in from above, and the moment his eyes adjust enough to recognize the figure that comes barreling down the stairs, he knows it is over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> does this make the most amount of sense? no. but thats okay. the idea is that lily was already taken when a squabble broke out amongst Death Eaters and Order members, and someone had managed to lock James away with Lily to teach him that lesson.... so it is a bit confusing and not the most detailed plot per say, but its a piece im proud of.
> 
> anyone notice how james yells what lily's last words are in the canon???? i love jily.


	4. Aftermath

“I hoped you would like them, dear,” Euphemia Potter cooed, her dainty voice giving a small quiver. James boxed up the bracelet set in order, making sure that his mother did not have to be too disturbed from her place on the loveseat. Lily smiled widely once more at her soon to be mother-in-law.

“I’ve never seen Goblin-made jewelry so elegant, Mrs. Potter. It’s gorgeous.”

“Ah, Mum’s always had the best taste. Right, Dad?”

“Hm?” Fleamont stirred a bit in his chair, as if waking from a trance. “Oh, yes. Wait, what was that, James?”

“Mum’s jewelry,” James repeated loudly, a patient smile on his face. “It’s very pretty.”

Fleamont smiled indulgently at his wife. “Euphemia could outshine any shoddy old witch or wizard in our time.” He turned to Lily, his eyes looking particularly peculiar behind his thick glasses. “I have a surprise for you, Lily, did you know?” 

“Yes, Mr. Potter.” Lily reminded him, holding up the gift box with her golden couldran. “It’s right here, thank you. I’ve never brewed in anything other than pewter before.”

They weren’t always like this, scatterbrained and slow and, well, old. But the past two years have been tough, and as James has reminded himself, they can’t live forever. His eyebrows narrowed in concern at his father, whose head dipped once more towards his hands as he once more became lost in silent thought, disconnected from the scene before him. But it was with gentle care and no sign of discontent that James replaces the lukewarm tea before his parents with a fresh pot, and it was with gentle grace that he sat back down next to Lily, draping his arm over her shoulder and tucking her in closer. Lily closed her eyes, granting them reprise from the afternoon sun that drifted lazily through the parlor window. Her head ached slightly, as it had been for the past week, but she could stomach the worst of it. Recovering her vision had been a relatively quick task, but her body still ached from the bruised rib and knife wounds. James had the remnants of the gash on his forehead, a small scar that could be seen only if he rumpled his hair the wrong way.

Lily twirled the engagement ring on her finger mindlessly, enjoying the afternoon off with the Potter’s. Having quit work at the cafe, Dumbledore only spared her enough off time for basic recovery before duties with the Order increased exponentially for the both of them. She and James would have to leave for surveillance in Diagon Alley in only a few hours, and so Lily indulged herself with talk and tea with the family she had left. 

Sirius told her that it was only based on Kingsley’s hunch did the Order stage a raid of the base after Sirius couldn't find James, and it was only by Dumbledore’s sudden arrival that Voldemort and several core followers fled the premises. He also told her that he had never seen McGonagall looks more terrifying than she had when she was the one to reach a cellar first, beating even Sirius’ own frantic search for his best friends.

Pretty bleeding fucking lucky, he told her in one of the rare moments that James had left her bedside in a immediate aftermath. And that's what Lily took away from the whole thing, that beyond the scarring and bruising and emotional trauma, they were alive. 

There was no point in fear, because they were already living in it. This war may have cost her her best friend all those years ago, and even her sister before that, but it wasn't going to cost her her life or her freedom or her love. Those things she left willingly and completely in James’ care, as she received his in return. 

Because, in the end, it's as it’s always been. She knows him, and he knows her, and that is enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thats a wrap!!! short and sweet; had to include euphemia and fleamont because i love them dearly too. 
> 
> let me know what you thought!

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this on tumblr a couple of months ago (im lizardcookie there too) and really wanted to continue this saga because i enjoy writing jily angst more than i should. Anyway ! This style isn't how the rest of the series goes, and the POV shifts from James to Lily and back.


End file.
